


Prompt 30: Candy Overload

by irrationalgame



Series: Thommy Comfortween Prompts [30]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Comfortween, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Vomiting, just in case that grosses you out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27311884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irrationalgame/pseuds/irrationalgame
Summary: Comfortween prompts from https://hurtcomfortex.dreamwidth.org/22946.html30. Candy OverloadComforting someone through some sort of stomach upset or abdominal pain.Jimmy eats too many cakes.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent
Series: Thommy Comfortween Prompts [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949317
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23
Collections: Comfortween 2020





	Prompt 30: Candy Overload

The upstairs lot had thrown a Hallowe’en party at the behest of Lady Rose, and it was of the biggest gatherings Jimmy had ever seen, the Abbey packed to the rafters with costumed guests, carved turnips and gaudy paper streamers. Carson had spent the two weeks prior harrumphing about how _undignified_ it was going to be, which only made Jimmy enjoy it all the more. The sight of Thomas dressed as a rather suave vampire certainly didn’t hurt either.

Mrs Patmore had gone absolutely overboard with cakes and pastries and all manner of delightful treats to keep the party-goers dancing into the small hours. After the last guest was long gone, and the mammoth cleanup completed, there were still several plates full of leftovers.

“Her Ladyship has given permission for the staff to help themselves to the leftover food,” Carson said, as if they’d been gifted a gold clock each instead of a pile of slightly stale biscuits and cakes. And the mountain of treats had been dumped on the servant’s hall table.

And Jimmy couldn’t resist picking at it every time he passed through the servant’s hall.

“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Anna said over her sewing as Jimmy stuffed another miniature pie into his mouth.

“Can’t help meself,” Jimmy replied, dusting crumbs from the front of his livery.

Thomas wasn’t fairing much better - Jimmy had seen him eat at least five chocolate brownies, three citrus tarts and an opera cake. Watching him lick the ganache off his lips was so erotic it should be illegal.

After a full dinner of stew and dumplings, as Jimmy shoved the third whole chocolate eclair into his mouth, he began to feel a _little_ off colour.

“Fancy a quick smoke Mr Barrow?” he said, looking for an excuse to go outside into the crisp November night. Thomas looked equally peaky, half a _millefeuille_ still on his plate. He nodded and heaved himself out of his chair, the front of his livery tight against his stomach.

They had barely made it out of the door when Jimmy vomited his breakfast, lunch, dinner and the dozen or so cakes he’d consumed in between, all over the yard.

“Bloody hell Jimmy,” Thomas said, practically holding the footman up as he dry-heaved. “How much did you eat?”

“Too much, clearly,” he managed to say between retches.

“Haven’t you ever heard the phrase _to have too much of a good thing_?”

Jimmy just heaved again.

“Blimey,” Thomas said, rubbing Jimmy’s back, “good job I’m not squeamish.” He handed Jimmy a handkerchief.

“Sorry you had to see that,” Jimmy said, wiping his mouth, mortified.

“You’ve done me a favour really. If I were to ever have an _untoward_ thought about you again I could just summon up this image and it’d soon vanish.”

Jimmy frowned, affronted. “Nice to know you love me _in sickness and in health_ , you git.”

“Oi,” Thomas said, “less of that. It’s not funny.” He put an arm around Jimmy and helped him over to the bench, avoiding the puddle of sick.

“What, you’re allowed to joke about it and I’m not?” They sat down side-by-side and Thomas lit a cigarette - Jimmy waved off his offer, still feeling green.

“Absolutely,” Thomas smirked around his cig, his lips impossibly red against the white of the paper.

“S’hardly fair,” Jimmy pouted. He grimaced at the disgusting puddle of vomit he’d created and said; “What am I gonna do ‘bout _that_?” He stomach turned at the idea of having to clean it up himself.

Thomas pulled a face; “I’ll send one of the hall boys with a sand bucket and a broom.”

“What would I do without you, eh?”

“You’d be in a ditch somewhere.” He exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“I know you’re teasin’ but, well,” Jimmy bumped his shoulder against Thomas’s, “you’re not wrong. I’ve been known to make some, um, _questionable_ decisions.”

“You and me both.”

“We’re quite a pair. Some smart git said that once, can’t remember who. Smarmy bastard though.”

Thomas smirked and swatted Jimmy on the arm. The footman leaned in and pressed his shoulder against Thomas’s, letting it sit there. Then, feeling a little queasy again, (and not just from all the cake) he let his head rest against the under-butler’s. Thomas stilled, the cig dangling between his fingers slowly turning to ash.

“We are a _pair_ , y’know,” Jimmy whispered, “an’ I couldn’t be without you. Not just because you sort out me messes.”

“I, well,” Thomas coughed, for once lost for words.

Jimmy put his hand on Thomas’s knee. “I mean it Thomas.”

Thomas’s cigarette dropped into the dirt and he stared at Jimmy’s hand, realisation slowly dawning on his face. Hesitantly, he covered Jimmy’s hand with his own. They sat together in silence, both scared of ruining the moment.

Eventually Thomas said; “Sort of glad you threw up everywhere now, even if it was disgusting.”

”Thank goodness for Mrs Patmore’s vomit inducing cakes then,” Jimmy laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> One to go!!!


End file.
